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“Bradley,” she called him over.
After a brief hesitation, he joined their circle, pressing himself in between Devra and her father.
“Son,” Frederick said with a nod. “Tell us what we need to do next.”
Bradley looked near tears. “Well, if it all started with a mouse…”
“Okay, look.” David shook out of their circle. “I know we’re getting excited here. But isn’t it kind of ridiculous to think a mouse is to blame for all our problems? Mice die every day, and most people are, in fact, very not cursed.”
“That’s true.” Bradley’s forehead creased. “Tabs kills them regularly, and she seems to be living a good life.”
“ ‘The Cat Who Almost Killed Me’!” Devra exclaimed.
“Huh?” Frederick said.
“I thought this was about a mouse?” David said.
Devra hurried to explain. “We found a bunch of articles online about curses, and one was about a woman who ran over a cat that supposedly belonged to a witch. It was an accident, but it didn’t matter. The woman was hexed with a lifetime of bad luck. It read like a tabloid piece. I tossed the story into the junk pile without a second thought. But now…What I’m saying is I don’t think it’s the animal that matters so much as—”
“The owner,” Bradley finished for her. “The mouse could have been someone’s pet. Someone powerful. And if we can track that someone down, maybe we can make amends.”
“An apology, Bradley. Adele Ariadne said I need to find a way to apologize!”
Bradley chuckled. “The best mall psychic around.”
“This is all well and good,” David said, “but that was over twenty years ago. How the hell are you going to track down a pet owner from that long ago?”
“We work our way from the inside out.” Bradley was using his detective voice. “Let’s assume the mouse didn’t travel far. So we start by talking to neighbours in your old area.”
Bradley and Devra locked eyes.
“No time like the present,” Bradley said.
Devra nodded. “Let’s go find out how this story ends.”
DEVRA
Devra parked across from her childhood home, with its peeling paint and cedar trim flaking off. A home that appeared as abandoned as any happy memories within. Her gaze lingered on her old bedroom window. She could see the child behind the drawn blinds, writing math problems in her diary where other kids might have scribbled their worries, acknowledging their sadness instead of distracting themselves from it.
“Meadowview Lane,” Bradley said, pulling Devra from her thoughts. “Why does that sound so familiar?”
“Come on.” Devra unbuckled her seat belt. “Time to start talking to the neighbours.”
They began with the homes on either side of her old house, trudging up unshovelled walkways. No one answered on the right, and a distrustful senior slammed the door on them on the left.
They were walking up the long natural-stone pathway of the second house from the left, when Devra noticed the path was not only clear of snow but completely dry. Her breathing shallowed as her gaze travelled upward to the woody, skeletal vines that crept along the home’s black facade.
“I remember this house.”
“You do?”
She nodded. “The lady here, she was…unusual, I suppose. Friendly enough. Always going on about her herbal remedies.”
As Devra approached the door, her footsteps slowed. The air around this house was thicker, more palpable. “Do you feel that?”
“Feel what?” Bradley said.
She wasn’t able to put the feeling into words. Instead, she reached for the doorbell, moving slowly, feeling as if she was passing through some kind of invisible barrier.
